


Each Side is a Loser (So Who Cares Who Fired the Gun?)

by madsthenerdygirl



Series: i carry your heart with me [i carry it in my heart] [2]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But it All Works Out!, Established Relationship, I Winced While Writing This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Multi, Our Babies Have Shit to Work Out, Polyamory, Sometimes Couples Fight, This is Just... Ouch, Trash OT3 Living Up to Their Name, lots of apologizing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 03:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14487378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: With these three, there was bound to be at least one major blow up.This is how it went down.





	Each Side is a Loser (So Who Cares Who Fired the Gun?)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from St. Jude by Florence + the Machine.
> 
> You can read this as taking place sometime between Anything, Something and Where I Does Not Exist, or you can read it as its own oneshot as long as you accept that Wyatt, Flynn, and Lucy are in an established polyamorous relationship sometime in the nebulous future.

It was, upon later contemplation, their worst argument yet.

It was also, as they all later realized, a long time building.

They were out on a mission in September 6, 1901 and had captured the Rittenhouse sleeper agent that was planning on lying in wait for the assassin who was to murder President McKinley and stop him.

Without McKinley as president, Lucy had explained, Theodore Roosevelt would never take his place. Congress had actually never expected or wanted Roosevelt to be in charge. He was too headstrong for Rittenhouse, too against corruption. They’d never be able to pass their policies.

“Now what do we do with him?” Wyatt asked. They could probably leave the guy tied up but also knock him out for good measure…

“Kill him,” Lucy said.

Wyatt’s brain short-circuited so it took him a moment before he realized that Flynn was shrugging and already raising his gun at the agent.

“What the fuck?” he burst out, grabbing Flynn’s wrist and preventing him from firing. “Lucy?”

“He knows too much,” she replied, her voice and face calm, too calm. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, Wyatt thought. Flynn fought in revolutions, Wyatt had seen war, she wasn’t supposed to be the _calm_ one about this, she was supposed to be arguing against this sort of thing—

“We have to kill him,” Lucy went on. “Otherwise he’ll report to his superiors.”

“How, without a time machine?” Wyatt demanded.

“Rufus left a time capsule,” Flynn pointed out. “He told me about that—if he can do it, then this guy can do it for Rittenhouse. I’m sure they have their own sort of backup plans for things like this.”

Lucy shook her head. “It’s a risk we can’t afford to take.”

Wyatt snorted. “I don’t believe this. I expect this from him but from you—”

Flynn froze. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked his voice calm in that very dangerous way that it got only when Flynn was furious.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean? I’m not allowed to make the pragmatic choice?” Lucy asked.

“Pragmatic? Are you kidding me? Luce, we’re talking about killing a man in cold blood—”

“A man who will rat on us at a moment’s notice—”

“Hold on, could we get back to the fact that you’ve just decided that I’m the morally reprehensible one here?” Flynn asked. “Because I need to get something straightened out. You. Are telling me. That you expect me. To be the one who says, ‘hey let’s shoot the guy’.”

“I’m sorry, are you not the one who says that?” Wyatt replied. “Because I’m pretty sure that you are.”

“And I’m pretty sure that you’ve been just as bad as I have,” Flynn said, his voice doing that thing where it went all tight because he was trying not to snap. “You don’t get to decide that what you do is justified and what I do isn’t.”

“Oh, really?” Wyatt stepped up into Flynn’s space. “Because from where I’m standing, you’ve already decided that all of what you did was justified. Any time you want to apologize for shooting Rufus or killing Anthony, or shooting Lincoln, or even me for that matter, you just let me know.”

“Don’t you get high and mighty on me.” Flynn rolled his eyes. “You’re a soldier, Wyatt, you and I both know what that means and you don’t get to hide behind the whole ‘we were on the right side we were following orders’ bullshit—”

“Would you rather I was like you? Fucking _starting_ wars, dropping dirty bombs, how many wars have you fought in? Nine? If anybody’s owning the gray morality line it’s you, buddy.”

“Like you haven’t done things that were just as bad for the people you love—worse, I might add, because you rushed in like a goddamn bull in a china shop, at least I knew what I was getting myself into and I didn’t excuse it, you just sit there and claim it’s all water under the bridge.”

“What are you two talking about?” Lucy demanded.

“He’s not talking about—” Wyatt started, trying to cut Flynn off, but Flynn wasn’t going to let Wyatt’s _I’m the authority here_ voice stop him.

“He went back in time to stop Jessica’s killer from being born and ended up killing the guy.”

Wyatt whipped around and glared at Flynn, jabbing his finger into the taller man’s face. “You do _not_ get the right to tell her that—”

“You _what_?” Lucy said, her voice reaching a level of piercing that made both men wince. “Wyatt Logan you fucking what?”

“I was going to tell you…” Wyatt said, but even the delivery sounded pathetic.

“Oh, sure, when?” Lucy asked, folding her arms. “I can’t believe this. I cannot fucking believe this.”

“Thanks a lot,” Wyatt said to Flynn. “Really appreciate that whole keeping a promise thing you got going on there.”

“Maybe if you got off your high fucking horse for a minute and stopped throwing down hypocrisy from up there—”

“Maybe if you would stop corrupting her—”

“Corrupting!? You think I’m—” Flynn laughed, sounding simultaneously incredulous and bitter. “Oh, holy shit… like you weren’t already causing problems before I fucking got there, with your sob story and then dangling her heart on a string for weeks!”

“I’m sorry, nobody is corrupting anybody—” Lucy started.

“No, no, he’s right,” Flynn said, holding up a hand. “I led you down the dark path of the Sith, I corrupted your soul, I…”

“Oh stop being so fucking dramatic, you sure you didn’t major in theatre in college?”

“Real smart coming from the guy who dropped out of high school to enroll in the military.”

Rufus managed to walk in just in time to see Wyatt deck Flynn right in the jaw.

“Okay…” he said, taking in the scene. “…what did I miss?”

“What did you miss?” Wyatt said, sounding a little hysterical.

“Oh, don’t worry, Rufus,” Lucy said. Her voice had taken on that firm, sweet, deadly tone that it did when she was Extremely Pissed and about to lay down the goddamn law. “Wyatt and Flynn here were just about to explain to me why they have decided _I’m_ the innocent corruptible maiden who got lured in by the Big Bad Soldier Boy and the Equally Big Bad Time Bandit. Who needs gender equality, right boys? It’s not like I’m a human being capable of making my own fucking decisions and deciding, entirely on my own, what right and wrong is.”

“So, I think I stumbled into something,” Rufus started. “I’m going to just go and…”

“I never said that,” Flynn said, talking over Rufus.

“You were pretty damn good at implying it.”

“Hold on just a goddamn second, how is accidentally killing a man—”

“Oh, it’s accidental now?” Flynn asked. “Wasn’t phrased that way when you told me about it—”

“—the same thing as going back in time to murder _dozens of people_!”

“You.” Lucy pointed at Flynn. “Thin fucking ice. You.” She pointed at Wyatt. “In the doghouse. I am not your maiden in need of defending and if I say this man needs to die because he is Rittenhouse and he’s been indoctrinated and he’s going to report back to them if we let him escape then that is _my_ prerogative and  _my_ choice. I know it isn’t pretty but we can’t save the world if we aren’t willing to get our hands dirty.”

“That is our job,” Wyatt argued. “Our job is to get our hands dirty, your job—”

Rufus winced. That slap sounded like it hurt.

“Did you not just hear a word I said!?” Lucy demanded. Tears were standing in her eyes now.

“Um…” the Rittenhouse agent cleared his throat. “So. Uh.”

Flynn pulled his gun.

_Bam._

“There.” He put the gun away. “I killed him. Problem solved. I shot him, because I’m the bad guy. Right, Wyatt?”

Rufus tried very hard not to breathe. Lucy looked like she was torn between crying and murdering both of them. Flynn had that hard, angry look on his face that Rufus hadn’t seen in, well, almost a year. And Wyatt just looked like he was going to throw up.

He’d never really been in a position to order everyone else around. That was usually Lucy’s job, sometimes Flynn or Wyatt’s during a combat situation.

But this was a very unusual situation.

He cleared his throat. “All of you. Get in the Lifeboat. The authorities will want to know about that gunshot, we need to get out of here. You can continue… whatever this is when we’re back at the bunker.”

By some sort of miracle, they all listened to him.

But that was far from the end of it.

 

* * *

 

“How’d it go?” Denise asked as they emerged from the Lifeboat.

 _Don’t ask,_ Rufus mouthed at her.

Lucy emerged first, shaking off both Wyatt and Flynn’s attempts to help her down. Wyatt shoved Flynn out next, because Wyatt was the king of passive-aggressive touching. Flynn glared at Wyatt as he went down, conveniently brushing past Lucy to stalk down the hallway. His jaw was already starting to turn purple.

Wyatt and Lucy followed him, the both of them keeping a good five foot distance from one another. Lucy’s arms were folded, her lips pressed tightly together, her gaze thunderous. Wyatt had a red patch on his face that looked vaguely like a hand print, and his expression looked like he was going to face a firing squad.

Jiya and Mason watched them go, then looked at each other, then at Rufus.

“Don’t ask,” Rufus repeated out loud.

From somewhere inside the bunker, a door slammed.

 

* * *

 

They’d been at this for hours.

“So you’re saying that the ends don’t justify the means,” Lucy shouted. “That’s fucking _rich_.”

“Of course the ends don’t justify the means!” Wyatt was just as loud.

“You stole a _time machine_ , got yourself court marshalled, killed a man, all so that you could bring back your wife and you say the ends don’t justify the means?”

“I think what he’s trying to say—” Flynn started.

Lucy rounded on him. By this point her skin around her eyes was bright pink from crying. “Oh, you’re on his side now?”

“I’m not on his side—”

“Because that would mean apologizing for his actions—” Wyatt snarked.

“You shut up,” Flynn snarled.

“Make me.”

“He’s right, Wyatt, you’re being a hypocrite, if he has to apologize for all the shit he’s done then you have to apologize for all the shit you’ve done—”

“Fine!” Wyatt shouted. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m fucking sorry, are you fucking happy now?”

“Oh that really sounded like you meant it, I feel so much better now, so heartfelt, way to go!”

“Real mature,” Flynn muttered.

“The condescension’s really appreciated, thanks Flynn.”

“When are you going to listen?” Flynn demanded, ignoring Wyatt’s smart remark and facing Lucy. “The ends might justify the means but that doesn’t mean that those means are suddenly really okay. It just means that you have to find a way to be okay with them inside of yourself. You can’t just bottle up what you’re doing, Lucy, you have to consider the cost to yourself, to—”

“If you say eternal soul,” Lucy whispered dangerously, “So help me, Garcia Flynn…”

Flynn put his hands up in a gesture of (temporary) surrender.

“I’m not a fucking perfect being,” Lucy continued. “I’m flawed and I’m allowed to make mistakes and I’m allowed to argue for a darker morality. I know what I’m doing. I’m a big girl. And I don’t appreciate either one of you deciding that you two get to zig-zag all over the morality scale because you’re ‘soldiers’ and you’ve ‘seen shit’ but I’m supposed to just sit up on my pedestal. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is? I can’t handle that, no human being can handle that. I have to be allowed to be human!”

The last word was screamed a bit, her voice cracking.

She turned away, hastily wiping at her eyes. She was not going to just snivel her way through this, dammit.

Both men made aborted movements to reach for her, then stopped themselves. Glared at one another.

“At least I can admit to my faults,” Flynn said.

“Great. Where’s that goddamn apology,” Wyatt shot back.

“Where’s your apology for refusing to admit that you’re just as bad as I am?”

“Where’s your apology for calling me a stupid hick?”

“Where’s your apology for socking me _in the jaw_?”

“Where’s your apology for _shooting me?_ ”

“Where’s your apology for _sticking two women in a love triangle they didn’t ask for_?”

“Where’s both of your apologies for being fucking cowards that will justify their actions no matter what the goddamn circumstances?” Lucy snarled at both of them.

They all stared at one another, chests heaving. Wyatt still kind of looked like someone had clocked him in the back of the head and he hadn’t quite recovered. Flynn looked like he was just itching for a gun, to sink some bullets into something. Lucy’s lip quivered, a sure sign she was about to start crying again.

Lucy moved first. She yanked the door open, turning her face away to hide the tears. Forced herself to walk, not run, out of the room.

“Luce…” Wyatt started, but the rest of it—if he even knew what the rest of it was—died in his throat.

He looked over at Flynn, who just shook his head angrily and then strode out of the room as well.

The bunker fell eerily silent.

 

* * *

 

Rufus found Lucy. She was crying inside the Lifeboat, a bottle of vodka in her hand. He said nothing, just closed the door behind him and sat with her, put his arm around her shoulders, let her get snot all over his shirt.

Denise found Wyatt. He’d forgotten to put the chair in front of the bathroom door again. He stifled himself quickly, but Denise saw the way that his eyes were rimmed red. She took him out for a long drive, just let him push the car fast as it could go through the dirt backroads. Hugged him when he had to pull over because he couldn’t see straight anymore.

Mason found Flynn. It wasn’t too hard, just follow the sound of somebody beating the shit out of the punching bag, pretend the stains on Flynn’s cheeks were from sweat. He brought out his records and played some of them, waited for Flynn to get tired, then offered him a beer—no words, just the music.

Nobody got a lot of sleep that night.

 

* * *

 

Flynn was sitting on the floor in one of the hallways when Wyatt found him.

He looked up. Saw him. Went back to reading the file on Emma, making annotations or corrections.

Wyatt sat down next to him. Flynn still didn’t look at him.

“Waking up without coffee sucks,” Wyatt said, very quietly.

Silence fell for another minute.

“I have nightmares,” Flynn admitted. “Where I shoot you and the bullet goes a little higher. And you die.”

“I have nightmares where Lucy doesn’t get in front of you in time in the 1950s,” Wyatt replied. “And you die.”

Flynn slowly set the pen and file down. Turned. Looked at Wyatt. “I am sorry,” he said, his voice rough from crying and lack of sleep. “I thought you knew that. Even as I was doing it, all of it—I was sorry for it. That doesn’t excuse it and I never expected it to. But I am. I… guess I just thought you knew.”

Wyatt turned a little more, buried his face into Flynn’s neck. Breathed him in.

“You’re right, I’m a hypocrite,” he said. If Flynn’s neck and shirt were getting wet, Flynn was enough of a gentleman not to mention it. “My wars and your wars and stealing the machine and… I’ve done all the things that you’ve done. And I still pretended that I was somehow better than you. And I’m not. At least you had the courage to face up to what you’ve done.”

For a moment, Flynn was very, very still.

Then he wrapped his arm around Wyatt’s shoulders. Pulled him in.

“We’re both fuck ups,” he said. “Let’s be honest. But you’re my fuck up, and I like being yours. So no more of this, hmm? We’re both trying to be better men.”

Wyatt nodded. Yes. That.

 

* * *

 

When they first walked into the bedroom, Lucy did her best to pretend they weren’t there.

She’d claimed the bedroom for herself, of course. Wyatt had spent the night at Denise’s place and Flynn had bunked in his old room.

“Lucy,” Flynn said, because he was the one who was best at not fucking things up when Lucy was angry at him. “We’re sorry.”

Lucy paused in her… whatever she was doing, organizing files or something, but didn’t look at them.

“Luce, please,” Wyatt added. “We know we fucked up.”

“And how exactly did you fuck up?” Lucy asked, her tone very clearly stating that this was going to be on the test and if they failed it they flunked the class.

“We treated you like you had no agency of your own,” Flynn said. He nudged Wyatt.

“We—I, mostly—put you on a pedestal and that’s not fair,” Wyatt said.

There was a pause. Lucy’s fingers trembled where they pressed against the pages.

“What if I once deserved that pedestal?” she whispered. “What if I… was that person once, and it’s not you putting me up too high, it’s me who’s fallen?”

“What?” Wyatt burst out. “What—no, Luce—”

He took a couple of steps towards her and Lucy turned. She looked a complete mess, her hair a bird’s nest, her face red and blotchy. “But what if I—who have I become, y’know? What if I’m no better—if we’re no better than Rittenhouse…”

Flynn moved forward, taking her by the shoulders. “And that’s what keeps you from being like them. Rittenhouse doesn’t question that what they’re doing is right. That it’s justified. As long as you keep questioning, keep double checking… that’s the difference. And…” he took a deep breath. “And maybe none of us emerge from this as heroes. And maybe that’s a sacrifice we have to make in order to protect others. I’m willing to make it. Because at the end of the day I get to come home to you two and I don’t know if I deserve it but it makes everything I have to do worth it.”

He looked back at Wyatt. “Although… I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fully make up for all that I put you through back at the beginning.”

“I was too harsh,” Lucy said. “To you, in the beginning. To both of you, just now. Neither of you are cowards. You’re two of the bravest men I know. And I—I love you.”

Wyatt came forward then, and Lucy cupped her hand gently around the spot she’d slapped yesterday. Mouthed _sorry._ Wyatt smiled. _Forgiven_ , he mouthed back.

“I am going to advocate for something like that again,” she said. “This… all of this apologizing doesn’t help if we don’t accept that. We’re not always going to agree.”

“I just want you to know the price you pay for the choices you make,” Flynn said. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. “I know what ghosts I have to contend with. I just wanted to spare you that, Lucy. I love you, I don’t want you to have to go through what I do.”

“What we both do,” Wyatt added.

Lucy sighed. Dropped her hands. Hugged herself. “But you can’t protect me. If I do something… I have to be allowed to make my own choices. No matter what it costs me. Because they’re my choices. Okay?”

Both men were still for a moment, then nodded.

“But we’ll still try and protect you,” Wyatt added. “Always. It’s kind of hardwired by now.”

Lucy gave a watery laugh.

“I am sorry,” Flynn said. “For the record.”

“We’ll talk it out next time?” Lucy said, hesitant, hoping. “Instead of getting accusatory?”

Both men nodded.

“I’m sorry, too, for, uh…” Wyatt shrugged. “Everything, really. For not listening to you—either of you—as much as I should. For hurting you and Jess, for being selfish. For hiding shit from you. For all of it.”

Lucy wiped at her eyes. “God dammit, I’m so dehydrated from all this crying.”

Flynn reached out, but stopped just before he touched her. Waiting.

Lucy closed the distance, taking his hand in hers, going to him and sitting on his lap. Turned, smiled at Wyatt. Held her hand out to him as well. “Come here.”

He came, because how could he not, letting himself be drawn in, standing in front of them, for once the tallest.

“I thought we were going to break up,” he admitted, his voice thick. He cleared his throat. “I just… yeah. I thought. It had never been that bad before.”

“Like hell,” Flynn burst out. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you two, I’m not ever going to stop fighting for either of you.”

Both looked at him. Lucy’s eyes went wide and Wyatt’s jaw literally dropped open.

Flynn shifted, looking like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “…too much? Too soon?”

Lucy shook her head, leaning in to brush her lips to the corner of his mouth. “I love you.”

She turned, beckoned for Wyatt to come down. He sat on Flynn’s other side, held still so Lucy could kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

Flynn kissed Wyatt’s cheek the moment Lucy pulled away. “What she said.”

Wyatt buried his face in Flynn’s neck. Took a deep breath. Pulled away and sat up straight. “I love you,” he said, looking Flynn dead in the eye.

He’d never said it so baldly before. Without qualifiers, without mumbling, without skirting around it. Not to Flynn. But if there was ever a time for it… it was now.

He looked over at Lucy. “Oh, and you’re okay too I guess, baby doll.”

Lucy smiled. It was like the sun. “Glad to hear it. Sweetheart.”

It was the worst argument. It was a long time coming.

But they were stronger for it.


End file.
